


To Stay and Replay

by potentialfordisaster



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Anal Sex, And they don't stop, Chris sings and plays, College Band, CollegeStudent!Tom, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Rockstar!Chris, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, The usual filth, They start having sex, seriously though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentialfordisaster/pseuds/potentialfordisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom took in a deep breath, trying to rearrange himself. He wondered how they looked right now. He was sure anyone that looked at them could tell that they were one step away from being in the same position as the bearded man and the girl in the wall. It made Tom want to shut his eyes. He needed to consider this but he was confused. He didn't know if he wanted it. A lot of people he didn't know were in the same room. One of those people was Chris, who looked like a nice guy but was a senior and the singer of the rock band that college girls would murder to have a night with. Chris with a very beautiful voice. And a very beautiful body. <em>And a very naughty hand</em>, Tom thought, stiffening when Chris' hand decidedly ran lower, cupping the soft meat of his thigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Stay and Replay

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a ficlet to be included in my collection (to which I'm still receiving prompts on [Tumblr](potentialfordisaster.tumblr.com)), but it got out of hand and I had to post it as a stand-alone. I feel this universe could render much more because it's sooo yummy, I didn't know where to stop, so my apologies if the end is a little (?).
> 
> I also don't know much about music, hopefully it won't be too evident.

"Come on, it's going to be nice." Andy insisted and Tom sighed, trying to concentrate on his textbook once more. Never, throughout his whole life Tom had imagined he'd meet someone as annoying as Andy in college. He had always envisioned himself acquiring a friend who shared the same tastes as him, but Andy did nothing but play on his videogame all day and it seemed The Little Prince was the farthest his literary knowledge went. 

"I don't know anyone, Andy." Tom replied. They were at campus, seated at one of the concrete benches after their Linguistics class had finished. 

"You know me," Andy said, laying a hand on Tom's shoulder to shake it slightly as if the movement would be enough to make Tom change his mind. "And we need to meet new people. And it's not going to be a party, it's just my cousin's band rehearsing." 

Tom shot him a quick look and grimaced, still not convinced. Andy's cousin's band was the most famous band in college, there was no way their rehearsals wouldn't be full of people. 

"It's not supposed to be a big thing, just the really close, you know? People would kill to go, I had to beg Dylan to let me take a friend with me." Andy continued. He seemed like he really wanted to go, but couldn't he have asked Tom if he wanted to accompany him before begging his cousin? 

Tom shut his textbook, sighing. He had nothing to do tomorrow and watching a band rehearse didn't look so boring comparing to his plans of staying in his dorm watching Netflix all day. But Tom was too shy and he was sure that being in a room with people who knew each other for a long time would only make him feel intimidated and out of place. 

Tom grabbed his backpack and stood, but before he could walk away he made himself stop and reconsider. He sighed one last time, turning to Andy to ask, "Are you sure?" 

Andy nodded enthusiastically. "Positive. I swear to god, Tom, you're not going to regret it." 

~*~ 

As agreed, they met at the bus stop the day after. Tom went with his faded jeans and a jacket, the most rock 'n' roll outfit he had though it made him feel ridiculous as if he was trying too hard to fit in. 

"Man, it's going to be awesome." Andy said, grinning to no one. 

Tom gave him a quick smile, crossing his arms over his chest as they waited for the bus. "Is it far?" He asked. 

"No," Andy shrugged. "A couple blocks away from campus." 

They took their bus, Tom staring blankly out the window as Andy rambled continuously beside him. "They're all almost graduating. Dylan told me Sony Music got in touch with them, did you know that?" He turned to Tom with a wide smile. "Wouldn't it be awesome if they signed a contract? I bet everyone would freak out." 

Perhaps they really were that impressive but Tom had little passion for rock. He didn't hate it, he just never took the time to immerse himself in it. His parents probably knew more about it than him, his father still having that vinyl collection he was so proud of and singing Stairway to Heaven everyday for a large part of Tom's childhood. There was also his aunt, who Tom considered a huge Beatles fan just because she cried so much when John Lennon died. Tom knew some classic bands by name like Ramones, Nirvana and Queen and knew the chorus to some of the more famous songs, but that's how far it went. 

Tom wasn't ashamed of his ignorance, but being dragged into a rockers' lair was probably not the best of ideas. That's why Tom promised himself to keep his mouth shut lest someone asked him a direct question, in which case he would respond with a nod or a shake of his head, and if it couldn't absolutely be helped, say in a very low voice that no, he still hadn't had the opportunity to listen to that album. But being a quiet freshman with a head of frenzy blond curls would probably work in his favor in giving out a vibe that wouldn't attract anyone into talking to him, so Tom could consider himself safe. 

Andy and him walked down a street, Andy with his head turned up to check for the numbers. Tom was internally praying that he had forgotten the way to it so they could go back, but Andy soon made a sound of recognition and motioned for Tom to follow him up the steps of a building. "It's here," he said, looking over his shoulder at Tom. 

Tom nodded quietly, watching as Andy turned to the interphone, a finger on his chin as he analyzed the numbers until promptly pressing one of them. There was a moment of silence followed by a beep and then a gruff "Hello" spoken over the interphone. 

"Hi," Andy said, inching his face closer to the speaker while Tom scratched his neck, looking back at the street. "It's me, Andy and my friend." 

There was a bored sigh and a grumble. "Who? What friend?" 

Andy opened his mouth to respond, but they could hear as the man murmured something to another person in the background, waiting for a few seconds until the moody man returned to let out a bothered sigh and a contradicted "Ok," before shouting a "Fuck, why did you-" that was cut off as he hung up. 

Tom looked from the interphone to Andy and swallowed, not feeling exactly welcomed. "Um, Andy, are you sure your cousin told the band that we were coming?" 

Andy gave a short and graceless laugh. "Well, I sure hope so," but didn't look too fazed as the gate opened for them and he walked in. "Come on, Tom." 

Tom pressed his lips together, dearly hoping they weren't about to be slaughtered by a bunch of muscular, tall and angry rockers. He followed Andy up the stairs seeing as the elevator was interdicted, squeezing himself to the side as a woman went down the stairs with her young son that almost toppled over Tom. They got to a lengthy and gray hallway, Tom following after Andy, who went ahead with an unreadable face. There was the distinct hum of voices as they walked farther in and Tom felt his fingertips turning cold with apprehension until Andy came to a halt in front of a door painted an ugly shade of green. 

"It's here," he said, turning to Tom before pressing the doorbell. It was obvious it was here because the low sound of talking voices came unmistakably from behind the door, but Tom put his hands inside his pockets and made no comment as he waited behind Andy. 

The door was opened by a bald and bearded man, hard eyes taking in Andy and the peek of blond curls that was Tom's head behind him. "Hey, kid," he said before widening the door with a slap for them to go through and disappearing inside. Tom swallowed forcefully, almost feeling like crying at the hostility that was sure to engulf him. 

Andy stepped in and so did Tom, and they both stood for a moment in front of the door to take the ambience in. They were at a short hallway leading to the living room, a wide and square room lined with old sofas and a coffee table, where most part of the people were in and a low music played. Beside them was the entrance to the kitchen, where a thin and pale man with lots of piercings and a ragged leather vest came from, tipping a beer can open and eyeing them in a way Tom could only interpret as mean before walking up to join everyone in the living room. 

The place looked old, with paint peeling off the walls, smelling strangely of humidity in a way that surprisingly wasn't bad. It reminded Tom of the wet clothes he collected after doing the laundry. 

"Dylan!" Andy shouted, waving a hand in the air and getting the attention of everyone in the room that had been previously talking. Tom wanted to shrink as a dozen of pairs of eyes turned to them and a short brunette that Tom supposed was Dylan stepped up to come speak to them. 

"Hey, Andy." He said, patting Andy's back amicably and turning to Tom, inching the top of his beer bottle in his direction. "And you're the friend, hn?" He asked, but his question was made in a friendly tone. 

Tom nodded, "Tom, yes, hi, nice to meet you." He said, extending his hand before he could stop himself. Was that how rockers greeted each other or they found shaking hands too old fashioned? But Dylan didn't seem to mind, smiling and nodding once before shaking Tom's hand. 

"Nice to meet you, man, welcome here to our small reunion." Dylan said, tipping his head towards the living room after letting go of his hand. 

"Thank you," Tom murmured. At least Andy's cousin was nice. 

"Come on." Dylan said, and Tom followed after Andy. "Sorry about the interphone," he continued, "That was Paul, our fucking bassist, fucker is always in a bad mood." Dylan tossed his head back to take a gulp of his beer bottle, and Tom wondered if he should begin including the word fuck in his everyday vocabulary. "Do you want a beer, a drink?" Dylan asked, but didn't wait for their answer as he pointed to the kitchen with his beer bottle. "You can get them at the kitchen if you want to. Take a seat, man, we're only waiting for Murray to stop fucking stalling so we can begin." 

Tom did as offered and quickly found a seat in an empty sofa, pulling his knees together and not knowing if he should take a look around or keep his gaze focused on the floor not to attract attention. Andy sat next to him, running his hands over his knees and licking his lips, eyes flying to the instruments assembled in front of them. "Man, I'm so excited, this is gonna be great." Andy said, and Tom only nodded, feeling a little lighter as no one seemed to be paying attention to them anymore. "Hey, will you want that beer?" Andy offered, looking ready to spring to his feet. 

"Sure," Tom said, just because everyone seemed to have a bottle hanging off their hands and because he could use the distraction. He wasn't a fan of alcohol but he could make himself swallow some of it. 

Andy quickly got to his feet and went in the direction of the kitchen and Tom realised he was now left alone and vulnerable. But he didn't seem to be the target of any hateful stares, and tentatively, took a look around while trying to make himself as a part of the furniture as possible. 

A few meters in front of him the instruments lay, a drum, a bass and two guitars, all connected to cables and amplifiers. The bald man who had opened the door for them sat in a stool and played some strings of the bass and Tom supposed he was the 'fucking bassist' Dylan had told them about. All around the room sofas and chairs were scattered, people seating and reclining on it, girls sat in some of the men's laps. Most of them wore black, but there were also jeans and even flannels, high leather boots and floppy slippers, long hairs kept in low ponytails and crazy mohawks. They were about twelve or thirteen, Tom wasn't able to count properly. 

Someone shouted to turn the radio off and Andy showed up with his beer, leaning against the wall beside Tom instead of sitting beside him. He looked eager, watching everyone avidly and visibly waiting for a cue or a chance to step in and make himself a part of them. Tom, on the other hand, took a sip of his beer and let the wheaty taste fill his mouth, looking down at his lap and pulling his cell phone out to know the hours. It was early still, and as Andy finally walked away to try his luck talking to a guy at the corner, Tom decided to play a game on his phone. 

He saw through the corner of his eye as Dylan dried his hands on his pants, moving to take his place at the drums and hitting a plate so loud that Tom startled, coiling himself tighter to the arm of the sofa and settling his beer bottle on the small table beside him. There was a moment when another man took the electric guitar and tried some strings on it before finally shouting to a 'fucking Chris' to get up. 

From the concentration of people around a sofa came a tall man with broad shoulders. He had dirty blond hair and a short beard, with dark jeans and a leather jacket above a white undershirt, arms so thick that Tom made a mental note not to get on his bad side as 'fucking Chris' moved to take the last stool, bending to say something to Dylan behind the drums before laughing. 

Tom licked his lips and tried to spot Andy amidst the crowd, finding him talking to a long-haired man with downturned lips and large shorts that showed his hairy legs. Tom let his gaze wander around the room as everyone took their seats, some even sitting on the floor to be closer to the band. The pale and pierced man they had seen exiting the kitchen earlier flopped ungracefully at the other side of Tom's sofa, not sparing him a look as a girl with a nose piercing and dyed black hair took a seat atop the other arm of the sofa, the man's arm curling around her waist. Her dress was so short that Tom quickly averted his gaze, trying not to be bothered by the empty seat between them. 

The room came to complete silence as all the eyes turned to the band. There was a moment when all of them seemed to arrange themselves, and finally Chris, who Tom now assumed was the singer, turned to say something to Dylan before taking his seat on the stool and pulling his microphone closer to his mouth, blue, electric and sharp eyes running over the small audience. 

"Hello, everyone," he said, his voice deep and low but carrying a melodic softness behind it. It was exquisite and Tom couldn't help shivering. Everyone greeted him back loudly and Chris laughed. "Thanks for coming listen to us." 

The people cheered and hooted, Tom smiling tightly should someone look at him and wonder why he wasn't demonstrating his excitement. After a beat, the guitarist began playing, followed by the bassist and Dylan smashing his drums. The music was loud, really loud, and Tom cringed, but no one else seemed to be affected, only nodding their heads slightly to the sound as Chris sang. 

His voice fit the music perfectly, beautifully raspy and manly but soft like a tenor. It made Tom blush inexplicably, a pool of warmth settling in his chest, calming his nerves and allowing him to tap his foot to the beat. Chris was a really good singer, and the rest of the band seemed to be doing a good job too. 

People were singing along to their songs but Tom had never heard them before, so he kept quiet and watched the band playing. He understood now what made them so famous; again, Tom wasn't a fan of rock, but there was a hearable difference between amateur bands that wouldn't make it big and bands like Chris', that held something different to their sound, as if their notes were higher, made more sense. Their lyrics weren't mundane like heartbreak confessions, but talked about resilience and power and sometimes politics. 

Tom watched as Chris sang, eyes shut and brows furrowed. It felt like a private show until Chris forgot a part of the lyrics and said a string of garbled words in its place, everyone laughing lightly and Tom accompanying. 

Everybody clapped when the music finished and Tom did the same. Chris thanked them and bowed, laughing and turning to his bandmates to agree on the next song. The repertory continued mostly in the same way, with musics that started off energetic, Chris singing emotionally until reaching the chorus, when the sound of the guitar and the drums prevaled and made the windows shake. 

It wasn't perfect, but it was still very good, the bassist and the guitarist sometimes missing some notes and letting the song flow dismembered for a moment. They paused between songs to take sips of their drinks and Chris played the other electric guitar for a while before the sky began darkening outside. 

Tom was having fun. In his own little corner, but he was. Other people were more enthusiastic, dancing and cheering, Andy amidst them. It was by far much more enjoyable than watching Netflix all day and Tom smiled to himself. 

Chris took his seat once more before they could start another song, his gaze falling on the people assorted around them, nodding and talking to one or another before his eyes finally fell on Tom, making the curly blond freeze and attempt to look away. He knew he shouldn't have looked for too long because people could always sense when they were being watched and Tom hated being caught. He cleared his throat shakenly, reaching for a sip of his now lukewarm beer. 

They continued playing not too long after, Chris pulling out a guitar to play over his crossed ankle. 

The girl previously sat at the other arm of the sofa flopped beside Tom, startling him and shooting a strange smirk his way. Tom smiled furtively and turned his gaze back to the band. Her nose ring was weirdly hypnotic and Tom wasn't sure if her intentions were good, but continued to feel her eyes on him in an unnerving stare. The man Tom assumed was her boyfriend drew her closer and Tom stared at his lap before lifting his gaze again. 

"They sound a little like the Foo Fighters, don't they?" The girl sat beside him asked, and Tom turned to her, gaping after a proper words to answer that with. He didn't know who she was talking about, but he nodded and went with a quiet "Sure." 

She seemed to sense his faze and to delight on it, tapping his shoulder to get his attention when Tom focused himself on the band immediately after her question. "Hey, how do you know them?" She asked, and Tom paled. 

Her boyfriend shot him a look from over her shoulder, not jealous but the same kind of mean look from before. "Uhn," Tom mumbled. There was no point in lying and it's not as if he would gain much from it. "I don't, actually." 

The girl lifted her eyebrows, surprised, and her boyfriend inclined his head to give Tom a permanent glare. "You mean, you've never heard them?" 

Tom shook his head. "No, I- I'm not much of a partygoer, I mean, I knew about their," he gulped, looking away from the man's eyes. "Their existence, but I had never listened to them. They're very good." He added the last part because it was truth and because it felt like the right thing to say. 

The girl nodded, still watching him, and in the background Chris started a slower song to which everyone joined. "So how did you get in here?" She asked, and Tom sighed in relief as her boyfriend lost interest in their conversation momentarily as he searched his pocket for a cigarette. 

"I'm a friend of Dylan's cousin," Tom said, nodding to his own words. "He's a really nice guy, and a good drummer too." 

The girl smiled wolfishly, "Sure," she said, before sitting herself on her boyfriend's lap to help him light his cigarette. "I'm Chloe," she continued, tilting her head in Tom's direction in what he believed was an unspoken question as to his name. 

"Oh, I'm Tom. Nice to meet you." 

Chloe smirked. "Yeah. This is Greg, my fiancé." She said, pointing to the man whose lap she was occupying. The weird pierced guy that now had a name lifted his hand in greeting despite his previous cold attitude. 

"Hi," Tom said, smiling shyly before turning his gaze back to the band. He sighed, some of the pressure that had been residing inside his chest when he had first realised he was about to be talked to dissipating. That went well. 

They watched the rest of the rehearsal until Chris announced one last song. "For the lovers," he said, and winked their way. Chloe and Greg giggled and Tom felt suddenly much more uncomfortable for sharing the sofa with them. 

Chris began a slower song, the rest of the band having already stood to get more drinks and sit next to the people scattered around the room. His voice rang soothingly, fingers sliding smoothly through the cords, the movement seemingly second nature to him. Tom intercepted his eyes twice more but his gaze held no meaning, and Tom was certain the man was probably wondering who the hell he was. 

A little uncomfortable, Tom fished his cell phone from his pocket again: two hours had already gone by. He tried spotting Andy and found him next to a group of people, apparently already socialized. Tom didn't even feel betrayed because he knew something like this was bound to happen, Andy was much too spirited to remain beside Tom in silence. 

Tom felt another prod on his shoulder and turned to Chloe, who did nothing but grin and look pointedly back at Chris. Tom smiled though he didn't know what it meant and turned his eyes back to the singer, who was just finishing the music to everyone's excited applause. 

Tom clapped along, contemplating taking a gulp of his beer but loathing the flatness it had acquired with time. People patted Chris' back and handed him a bottle of beer, which he promptly accepted, turning to look over his shoulder at Tom's sofa. 

"Hey there, man!" Greg, Chloe's fiancé, greeted him, and Tom let his gaze fall to his lap as the singer smiled and approached. He was tall, not that Tom hadn't noticed before, but now he could see Chris was taller than him by a few inches. 

Chris slapped Greg's outstretched hand, receiving their compliments with a friendly grin. "Chris, sit here," Chloe offered the empty seat between her and Tom, giving Tom a quick and smart look. 

Tom flushed, politely squeezing himself to the side so Chris could sit, which he did promptly, smiling to Tom and greeting him with a nod. Tom smiled back quickly, heart palpitating as he purposefully darted his eyes aside. The sofa wasn't too large with four people in it, even if Chloe was sat in Greg's lap, which meant Tom's and Chris' sides were pushed together. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Tom could feel Chris' breathing, the smell of his sweat that clung to his shirt mixed with a manly essence, could even see the mark of Chris' nipples through his white shirt. He had a tattoo on his hand that Tom hadn't been able to figure out from a distance, but now found out to be a red, blooming rose on the upper part of his hand, drawn between Chris' thumb and index finger. It was nice. 

Chris was talking to Chloe and Greg beside him and Tom tried to make himself look busy while doing nothing, forcing himself not to eavesdrop though it was close to impossible. 

"Really?" Chris asked beside him, laughing heartily. His voice was different when he spoke. When he sang it was raspier. 

Chloe smiled, swatting Chris' shoulder playfully before adding: "Tom agreed with me," tilting her head towards Tom, whose eyes rounded and shoulders shrunk. 

Chris turned to look at him, and Tom gaped, eyes darting from Chris' heated gaze to Chloe's cheeky grin. He didn't know what Chloe had said that made Chris so surprised, mind hurrying to remember his earlier talk with Chloe and analyzing everything he had said. The only thing he had agreed to was that they sounded like a band Chloe had mentioned, so not knowing exactly how to verbalize that, Tom simply nodded. 

"Tom, isn't it?" Chris asked, and Tom nodded again. "Why do you think that?" he continued, crossing his arms over his chest, but his smile delated his amusement. 

Tom possibly felt like crying, licking his lips and trying to think of something to say that wouldn't condemn himself. "Uh, it's very... similar." 

Chris' eyebrows pinched momentarily, cocking his head to the side to give Tom an one eyed stare. "Okay," he said, finally, seeming to sense Tom's uneasiness. 

Tom swallowed, lowering his eyes and staring at the instruments Dylan was unplugging and collecting. 

"I don't think we've met before," he heard Chris say, and turned to find him still engrossed on Tom, Chloe and Greg apparently making out beside him. "I'm Chris," he said, extending his hand. 

Tom opened his mouth to respond, but Chris cut him to it, "And you're Tom," he said, laughing and shaking Tom's thin hand. 

"Well, yes," Tom shrugged, folding his hands atop his lap. He could practically touch the path of Chris' eyes on his face, but remained silent, cheeks warm. 

"Dylan invited you?" Chris asked, his attention fully taken by Tom. 

Tom nodded, gulping, eyes searching for Andy. "His cousin actually." 

"Oh," Chris frowned. "I didn't know Dylan had a cousin," to which there was a pause of some seconds before he continued, "Wait, a short guy with a wide smile?" He asked, smiling largely to show his teeth the way Andy used to do. Tom couldn't help laughing. "Yes, that's Andy." 

Chris nodded, "Andy like the Toy Story boy?" he asked, smiling. Tom laughed, mesmerized, but before he could say something else a man with a long, braided beard came to pat Chris on the back and compliment his singing, dragging him into a technical conversation. 

Tom's belly growled and he hoped to god Chris hadn't heard it, wrapping his arms around his belly and reenacting on his role of wallflower. The guy Chris was talking to was insistent, and Tom could see as Chris too got bored of his talk, nodding with a serious face to what he had to say. Tom caught Chloe's eyes and the girl winked at him, turning back to her fiancé and making Tom's blush increase. 

The man finally left after Chris' response turned monosyllabic, and Tom pretended not to be paying attention. Chris cleared his throat beside him, brazenly turning to Tom and extending an arm behind his shoulders. "So, Andy, the Toy Story boy..." he continued. 

Tom chuckled. "Yes," he was fifty percent sure that Chris was flirting with him and didn't know how to act in such a situation. 

"He dragged you all the way here?" 

Tom shrugged. "Kind of, yes." 

Chris' smile slipped off a little, and he blinked at Tom, seemingly confused as he continued. "So you didn't want to come?" 

Tom licked his lips, realising Chris must've felt disappointed discovering Tom wasn't a fan. "It's not like that, I just- I hadn't heard you before." He should've said the truth, which was he didn't have anything else better to do with his day, but he had a feeling Chris wouldn't like knowing that. His response seemed to make Chris a little bit happier, "Oh, and you liked what you heard?" 

Tom bit the inside of his cheek, nodding. "You're very good. All of you." He added the last part hurriedly. 

"Well, I do enjoy a compliment," Chris smirked, taking a large gulp out of his beer bottle. 

Tom's eyes found Andy talking to the same group of people from before, looking like he had possibly had too much to drink. The sight of it wasn't very nice to Tom, who wouldn't want to drag him into a bus in the middle of the night so they could return to campus. He should probably get going. 

"I think I should go." Tom voiced his decision to Chris, whose eyes widened. 

"Now? It's still early." 

Tom gulped. "We still have to catch the bus back to campus." 

"I think Paul is driving back to his dorm, I'm sure he can give you two a ride." Chris insisted, cocking his head in Paul's direction. The moody bassist. Tom didn't like that idea, but didn't know what else to say to decline. 

"You want a beer?" Chris asked, raising his own bottle to make his point. 

"Ah, I've had one, actually, but thank you." Tom said, motioning to his forgotten bottle at the small table. Chris huffed, "Come on, I can fetch you one." 

Tom looked away, blushing to the roots of his hair. He nodded quietly, watching Chris' wide grin as he stood up, supporting his hand on Tom's knee to get up. Tom almost flinched, but was able to hold himself back. Chris went to the kitchen and Chloe immediately took his seat, grinning smartly up at Tom. 

"Having fun?" She asked, amused. 

"I- Yes." Tom said, scratching his nose for lack of something better to do. 

Chloe giggled, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she winked. "Chris will take care of you." 

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, turning to her with renewed fear. 

Chloe laughed, clicking her white teeth against her beer bottle's rim. "He's had his eyes glued on you all night, silly." 

There was nothing Tom could say to that, and before he could Greg had already dragged her back to his lap. Tom was left with his own swirling thoughts until Chris came back with a beer for him, ice cold as he handed it to Tom, flopping down on the seat beside him and resting his hand on Tom's knee now. 

Tom watched his hand there, trying to swallow the thought that Chris probably wanted this to go somewhere else. Tom's eyes lifted to the rest of the room, finding everyone in varying states of drunkenness, some even lighting suspicious cigarettes that smelt like burnt grass, the essence mixing with the white smoke let out by Greg beside them, making Tom's stomach turn. There were other couples besides Chloe and Greg, the man with the braided beard that had come talk to Chris was leaning against a wall, tongue deep in a girl's mouth, one hand holding his drink and the other in a place Tom wasn't sure he would like to know. 

He could hear Chris beside him, could feel his muscles and almost jumped out of his skin when Chris stretched to take his jacket off, presenting him with his muscular chest and thick arms, his white shirt clinging to his skin. He had other tattoos too, Tom noticed, but swung his gaze away when Chris' hand returned to his knee, resting just a few centimeters lower than it had before. 

Tom took in a deep breath, trying to rearrange himself. He wondered how they looked right now. He was sure anyone that looked at them could tell that they were one step away from being in the same position as the bearded man and the girl in the wall. It made Tom want to shut his eyes. He needed to consider this but he was confused. He didn't know if he wanted it. Andy was in the same room, a lot of people he didn't know were in the same room; one of those people was Chris, who looked like a nice guy but was a senior and the singer of the rock band that college girls would murder to have a night with. Chris with a very beautiful voice. And a very beautiful body. _And a very naughty hand_ , Tom thought, stiffening when Chris' hand decidedly ran lower, cupping the soft meat of his thigh. 

"Okay?" He heard Chris whisper, hot breath fanning his ear. He was closer than he had been before, his voice low and raspy like it sounded when he sang, and Tom was afraid Chris had felt it when he shivered. 

Tom didn't trust his eyes anymore because he knew his vision was glazed, but he could feel Chris' lips next to his throat even if they weren't touching him. Yet. He swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple bob, letting his eyelids droop and his breathing come out in hurried breaths. He knew this would happen, he knew. But he let it happen, Chris' body pressing him slightly against the arm of the sofa until his breath was touching Tom's cheek, until their faces were closer and the line of his nose was running over Tom's cheek, tilting his head slightly back so he could angle his head and finally latch his lips to Tom's. 

Tom was afraid he would slip, that the ground would disappear and he would fall just because Chris' lips were on his and he wasn't imagining this. It was nothing, just Chris' lips there against his, his hand that came up to cup his jaw and Tom blinked once, twice, before shutting his eyes, catching a last glimpse of Chloe's nasty grin as Greg descended to suck her neck at the other side of the sofa. 

Chris wasn't impatient, he moved his lips perfectly against Tom's, who resisted before letting it happen, feeling his lips being nipped and bitten sweetly, Chris dropping their bottles somewhere as he let out a big sigh against Tom's lips, his other hand coming up to twine around Tom's waist, surging up against his mouth in a fast swoop, sealing their lips and thrusting his moist tongue inside, thumb at Tom's jaw. 

Tom made a sound in the back of his throat but he wasn't sure, securing one hand on Chris' neck and the other on his hair as he could feel Chris' head undulating every time his tongue swept past another part of Tom's mouth, relentlessly licking the roof of it, the row of Tom's teeth in fast strokes. He seemed insistent to have Tom participating too, reaching for his tongue with an expert lick that made Tom startle and tighten his hold on his hair, moving his tongue slowly before Chris sucked at it, and now Tom definitely let out a sound, a low moan or a whimper, he didn't know, but Chris seemed to like it, growling and doing it again. 

The hand on his waist scurried to his thigh again and Tom wrapped his arms around Chris' shoulders as Chris hiked him up to his lap, Tom's back against the sofa's arm, sitting on his Chris' hips as Chris pressed him back hotly, both hands now on Tom's inner thighs to spread his legs apart, Chris pushing himself in its space until they were touching everywhere. 

It was madness, Tom thought. They were in a room full of people, they were seeing. But he couldn't make himself bother as Chris continued to kiss him, hands tightening around his waist. Chris parted their kiss, sliding his wet and swollen mouth against Tom's face and kissing his cheek until reaching his ear, which he nipped and lapped, breathing in the smell of Tom's curls before licking the shell of his ear, descending hot kisses down the expanse of his throat. Meanwhile, Tom forced himself to breath, feeling like his heart would give out, that his body would shake too much. It was too good. Uncontrollably good. 

Chris pressed him against the sofa's arm again, cornering Tom and wanting their bodies as close as they could get with an undulation, and this time Tom felt his erection, mind going blank when it slid next to his own. He moaned, a breathy, high-pitched thing, and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide as he realized the room had gone suddenly silent, only the wet noise of Chris' kisses on his neck. 

Everyone was looking at them. Tom swallowed, feeling his blood expanding to his face and doing a meek job out of trying to make Chris pull away. 

"Fuck, Chris, give the kid a fucking break!" Someone shouted, and everybody laughed. Tom wanted to hide his face, trying hard not to look in the direction he knew Andy was. Chris paused on his kisses, though, burying his face in Tom's neck and growling loudly, extending his hand to flip a finger at the person. Again, more laughter. 

They were both sporting hardons and Tom really didn't know what he would prefer were to happen. But Chris took the decision out of his hands as he sat back on the sofa, pulling Tom to his lap sideways, arms circling Tom's hips so his erection wouldn't be visible while Chris' very hard and very big cock grazed the outside of Tom's thigh. 

Tom's legs were stretched on the sofa's length and only now he realised Chloe and Greg were gone. Chris kept kissing his neck, though, and Tom curled his face on Chris' shoulder. 

No one said anything to them as the talk around the room continued in a lower volume. While Chris hummed and copped a feel of Tom's body, Tom opened one eye and let it shyly wander around the room. Chloe and Greg were nowhere to be seen and Tom supposed they had left already, noticing that some of the room's previous occupants were also missing. He didn't know how much time he and Chris had spent together because it had felt so fast, but apparently it was enough to have people going. 

"Chris," Tom whispered, after having noticed that Andy was gone too. "Chris, I really need to go." 

But Chris only groaned, tightening his hold around Tom's hips. "You don't need to," he said, sparing the skin below Tom's collar an interesting mouthful. "They need to," he breathed, squeezing Tom's side against his chest. "It's my house, you can stay the night." 

Oh god, Tom knew what this meant. But Chris' own words seemed to fill him with resolve, quickly pulling Tom to his feet alongside him, an arm protectively around his waist as he led Tom's jelly legs towards a hallway Tom hadn't seen before. 

"Hey, Chris, where are you going?" The same person from before shouted, some laughter accompanying. 

"Fuck off!" Chris answered, all warm limbs as he and Tom made their way down the hallway, the sound of the people in the living room diminishing after someone else said in a lower voice "He gets moody when horny." 

Chris pushed the last door of the hallway open, pulling Tom inside and burying his face in his neck again without a second thought. "Chris," Tom gasped, hands digging in Chris' hair, cock throbbing inside his underwear. 

The room was barely visible, only the moonlight streaming past a wide window illuminating a double bed covered only in a bare sheet, where Tom's back was pushed against in the next second, Chris' heavy body falling over him. 

Tom wasn't able to get a good look of his face because Chris instantly ducked his head to take Tom's jacket, throwing it aside carelessly before he shoved his hands under Tom's shirt, bunching the material up to Tom's chest before sliding his body down to kiss and lap at Tom's tiny belly, leaving the curly blond to moan desperately and take his shirt all the way out. 

"Chris," Tom called, but he didn't know for what, only raising his hips when it seemed his blood pooled in his lower belly, Chris' tongue traveling lower and lower. "Chris-" Tom gasped, fisting the sheet beside his hips. 

Chris groaned loudly in response, pausing to lift his head, letting Tom see how blown his pupils were, locks of hair hanging on his forehead haggardly as he panted. He looked animalistic, with the tattoos along his arms, and the thought only made Tom's cock twitch and throb harder. "Okay?" Chris asked, almost out of breath. Tom didn't know what he meant until he gave a telling pull on Tom's jeans. 

Tom nodded quickly, eyes hooded as he watched Chris unbuttoning his jeans and slipping it down his legs in a swift pull, not relenting until sliding it out of Tom's legs completely, shoes gone in the process. Tom was left only in his white socks as Chris lapped his way up again. 

"Shit," Tom cursed, and Chris grinned. Tom hand't worn a nice underwear, he hadn't given the possibility of getting laid the minimal thought. His current underwear wasn't embarrassing, just old and threadbare, of a light shade of blue that was almost transparent now. He didn't know what to say, only that he was so very embarrassed but Chris didn't seem too interested on hearing anything, sitting back on his heels to take off his clothes in record speed. 

He returned to drape his body above Tom's again, his cock long and thick and red, poking Tom's inner thigh against the underwear. Tom whimpered, fastening his arms around Chris' broad shoulders. His skin shone golden under the moonlight and Tom couldn't help himself, he bit into his shoulder, liking the salty taste of his sweat as Chris dipped his hand into Tom's underwear and started pumping him. 

Tom screamed, his pleasure uncoiling out of him, completely manhandled by Chris, who stroked quickly before Tom burst, toes curling. It was too much, too good, and Tom's seed landed on their stomachs, his whole body tightening and tingling in white waves. 

"Fuck," Chris cursed, taking Tom's underwear off, sliding it down his legs almost reverently, his cock an angry curve against his belly. 

Tom was embarrassed for having come so early but he couldn't help himself. He was on his way to feeling completely miserable when Chris stood up in a flash, Tom whimpering in confusion, eyes flying to Chris, who bent to retrieve something out of his bedside table before returning and oh- Tom understood. 

There was a whole string of condoms and a vial of lube, and Chris brought them to the bed anxiously, slickening his fingers quickly, letting Tom appreciate the vision of his strong body, albeit poorly lighted. "Ever done this?" Chris asked, holding his slickened and glistening fingers up so Tom would know exactly what he meant. 

Shyly, still panting slightly, Tom nodded, and Chris moaned, crashing their lips together before pressing the length of their bodies closer again, his hand reaching down Tom's body until his fingers were prodding against his entrance. Tom moaned, loudly again, hands cupping Chris' shoulders as the first finger slid in. 

Chris panted against his ear. "You're beautiful," he said, and repeated himself twice more before his finger had slid into the second knuckle. "Fuck, you're so hot." Chris added, bucking against Tom's hips, his hard cock sliding against Tom's stomach that was still sticky with his drying come, drops of Chris' precome smearing all over it. "I need-" Chris said, but grimaced and shook his head, inserting his second digit in. 

They could still hear sound from the people in the living room and Tom blushed, knowing they could hear his own moans as he bucked and got fucked by Chris' fingers. It was improper, and hallucinating, and for a moment Tom wanted nothing more than to be fucked into next week while screaming so they could all hear and know how well Chris' cock was treating him. 

Chris began to grow impatient, though, and after fucking Tom with three fingers for some time, he retrieved them, hurriedly putting on a condom and aligning himself with Tom's help, Tom's cock now hard anew. 

The push was uncomfortable, Tom grimacing and letting out pained little cries. Chris did his best while trying to push in, arms stretched beside Tom's head, teeth gritted and eyes shut, his upper body moving with every small thrust he gave. 

Tom secured himself on Chris' sides, knees pushed up to his chest. He felt sticky but he didn't care, he needed it too much. "Chris," he gasped, breathing out slowly and adjusting himself on the head of Chris' cock, that had valiantly slipped past the ring of his arsehole. Tom knew it would've been easier if they had used more lube but they were in a hurry, and groaning loudly, Chris finally slammed himself all the way in in a stronger push. 

Tom let a loud whimper, his hole burning with the stretch, his body tightening all around with the intrusion but Chris slid out smoothly, waiting a beat before repeating the process and pushing in. Tom's eyes rolled, holding his own feet apart as Chris went for a third, longer and deeper thurst, Tom's body sliding up the mattress with it and Chris' cock lodging itself deep inside Tom, brushing that spot that sparked something in him, Tom's cock spurting small drops. 

"Chris," he called, looking down to where they were joined and almost passing out, only the root of Chris' cock visible before he pushed that in too. 

Chris seemed to understand what he meant, pulling them down the mattress again as the sheet had come off and Tom's head was dangling off the edge with his last ramming, letting out a long hiss as his hips slammed down hard, the head of his cock hitting that spot and Tom's back arched, Chris continuing on full force. 

Tom was almost reaching his second orgasm and it seemed unbelievable. He reached for his own unattended cock but Chris, amidst all his grunting above him, made a disapproving sound. Tom looked up at him slowly, and Chris shook his head. "No touching, babe- ahn, just, fuck, just this- just from my cock." 

Tom nodded, doing his best to stay in place but Chris' thrusts were too strong and twice more they had to slide down the mattress again before continuing. "Why don't- we, uhn, Chris, why don't we change... position?" 

Chris' pace slowed down, seeming to give Tom's words some thought. "Okay," he said, nodding quickly. "Okay, which one do you want?" He slid out of Tom, both of them missing the contact before Tom turned on his belly, getting on his hands and knees and looking at Chris from over his shoulder, drops of sweat lining down his forehead. 

Chris smirked, hands quickly coming to get a hold of Tom's buttocks as he pushed them aside, staring intently at the swollen and stretched hole, shoving his cock all the way in again. 

Tom moaned, Chris coming back full force, only the slapping sound of their skins filling the room, their moans and groans, Chris' balls hitting his ass. "Yes, yes yes..." Tom whimpered, the soft skin of his knees and hands reddening and grating against the bare mattress. Chris was very, very good at this because he began hitting Tom's prostate and didn't stop anytime soon, Tom looking up to the ceiling and feeling the hot wave of his orgasm hitting him again, his come landing on the mattress and on his chest, clutching Chris' cock inside him. 

He heard Chris as he spilled too, filling the condom inside him and sliding out, both falling back on the mattress and staring at the ceiling. Tom's chest was heaving and he just couldn't believe this had actually happened. Chris lay beside him in a similar state, wearing nothing but a stupid grin on his face. 

"Good?" Chris asked, flipping the condom carelessly somewhere. 

Tom only nodded, still recuperating his breath. 

~*~ 

They did it again: Tom bouncing on Chris' cock until his thighs shook too bad with the strain, at which point Chris took charge of it and rolled Tom's hips above his lap, arms bulging and hands fastened on Tom's hips and there would surely be some bruises in there tomorrow. Tom's third orgasm came and left him weak, slumped above the disgusting mattress as Chris did something Tom didn't think was possible and took his cock out to replace it with his tongue. Right there on Tom's abused arsehole, lapping like he hadn't fucked that with his cock all night long. 

There were tears slipping down the corners of Tom's eyes and Chris only stopped when he saw that, crowding him in and kissing his forehead, petting Tom's hair. "Did I hurt you, did I hurt you, Tom?" 

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no." 

They didn't sleep more than they passed out, the last energy Tom had for the day being used to suck Chris' cock. They had to stay in the guest room for Chris' bedroom was now uninhabitable, and though sticky and disgusting, they slumped down the smaller bed, Chris' limbs winding around Tom's and bringing him closer, mouthing at his brow. 

~*~ 

Tom woke alone, blinking blearily around the unfamiliar room. He grunted, his bottom sore and his skin feeling thick and dirty. He was naked, his clothes nowhere to be seen and he remembered everything, not that he could forget. 

"Oh god," Tom gasped, staring up at the white ceiling. He could hear faint sounds coming from somewhere in the flat, but couldn't make himself stand up. His belly growled, empty and aching. He felt awful, like a truck had ran over him although his chest felt lighter than it had in a while. He supposed the sex was to blame. 

"Morning, sunshine." 

Tom startled, head whipping to the side where surely, a recently bathed and beautiful Chris stood at the doorway, stark naked. He had on this wide and satisfied grin, walking up to Tom to sit at the edge of the bed. "Sleep well?" He asked, though Tom couldn't take his eyes away from his bare chest, nodding wordlessly. It was strange, this waking up in the next day to the guy he had sex last night - and not just once. Tom didn't know what was expected of him, if he should go away as fast as he could or if Chris was waiting for a repeat of last night, and if he was, what would it mean to them? Were they fuckbuddies or just two people that met randomly and had as much sex as was socially acceptable without commitment? 

"Oh, wait here," Chris said, seeming to have remembered something as he stood in a flash and went back the way he had come, Tom watching his backside retreating. 

Oh god. 

Chris returned with a tray in one hand, a guitar in the other. "I made you breakfast," he said, and Tom gulped, blood rising to his face. Chris waited until he was sitting against the headboard to settle the tray on his lap. 

"Wow, thank you." Tom murmured. He made him scrambled eggs, with two toasts and an apple. It was extremely sweet of him and Tom thought perhaps his eyes were watering. 

Chris smiled in response, sitting in the edge of the bed and playing some notes in it. "Is there anything you'd like to hear?" he asked, supporting the guitar on his knee, the hint of his cock lying on his thigh underneath it. Tom gulped. 

"I don't think you'd know the musics I like," Tom mumbled, taking a bite out of the apple. 

Chris laughed, "Why not?" 

"I don't know," Tom shrugged. He hadn't been thinking about admitting it, but Chris was being so nice to him and felt comfortable here. "I don't know many rock songs." 

"I can sing you something other than rock songs," Chris stated, smirking. He looked impossibly handsome like that, there was no way he didn't know it, with his hair in a disarray and the sun shining over them. It looked like a movie scene, Tom felt inside a movie scene. "Come on, what do you like? I can play the Titanic soundtrack." 

Tom laughed. "Really?" 

"Yeah. I don't sound like Celine Dion, but..." he shrugged. "Would you like to hear it?" 

"Sure." 

Chris began playing. He was certainly being modest before because his version was amazing. "Wow," Tom couldn't help sighing. His voice was superb, and the notion that this was actually happening, that Tom was actually having sex with that music god made him all mushy inside. 

Tom sang the last part under his breath with him, and Chris' eyes widened to him. "Hey, you can sing too!" 

Tom laughed. "Too poorly, nothing like you." 

Chris raised an eyebrow, letting his guitar go and crawling on the bed next to Tom, settling beside him and rubbing a thumb up and down his arm slowly. Tom smiled, giving him a bite of his apple and letting himself be sweetly kissed. 

"Thank you for this." Tom said and Chris growled, biting his ear lobe playfully. 

"It's nothing, baby," he pulled a curl behind Tom's ear. "You were amazing last night," he added in a lower voice. 

Tom smiled, looking down to hide his blush. "You were amazing too." 

Chris kissed his cheek, pulling his face closer for another kiss. "All right, but now you gotta help me clean the room."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please, let me you know your thoughts on it! :)


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